


Of Puppy Piles and Porn

by runswithwolves (ConstantComment)



Series: The Mating Games 2013 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 22:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantComment/pseuds/runswithwolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Stiles is invited into the puppy pack pile.</p><p>Written for Challenge 1 of the Mating Games on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Puppy Piles and Porn

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Exhibitionism.

Usually after nights like this where he’d been roughed up, Stiles would find himself back at his house, sneaking up to his room mouse-quiet and thankful his dad was on the night shift. Usually after nights like this, Stiles was alone.

Instead, Stiles had the ghost of someone’s broad hands skimming up under his shirt to check for cracked ribs and fingers at his temples to remind him that he wasn’t going to be alone, this time. He’d been manhandled, wolfhandled even, into the Camaro once it was confirmed he didn’t need medical attention after their tussle with those Sasquatch-y things. The thought warmed him more than he’d ever admit.

He was almost snoring by the time the car rolled to a stop, and realized then that Derek had driven him to the loft. Derek’s loft. For a cuddle puddle. He looked over at the driver’s seat, only to realize Derek had stepped out already and was rounding the hood of the car to open the door for him.

“C’mon, get out,” said Derek.

“Such chivalry.”

If Stiles wasn’t totally beat and kind of sore all over, he would have sworn that Derek’s mouth twitched a little into a smile underneath the blood and dirt. Instead of replying, Derek wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him up to the front door, not once letting go.

“So, this is a thing,” Stiles croaked once they’d opened the door to an island of mattresses and blankets where there once had been living room furniture. Stiles stood by the pile of werewolves sprawled across the sea of blankets, feeling awkward in his own skin once Derek’s hand left his hip. Eventually, he decided on a mattress in the middle and shimmied under the duvet until he was warm and snug, humming at the tangible undercurrent of pack that surrounded him.

Stiles woke sometime later, feeling a dip on the mattress and a wolf-hot body sliding under the covers along his back.

“Hrmf?” he grunted, and was promptly shushed by a comforting growl that vibrated the bed. He squinted into the dark, looking out at the lumpy shapes across the room before trying to turn and say hello to his new bedmate.

Hands were on waist before he’d even hissed out his pain, and then Stiles was blinking at Derek’s shadowy face.

“Scott’s been teaching me how to take away pain…” Derek whispered after a moment.

Derek pressed down a little on Stiles’ chest, then Stiles’s pain was being flushed out by warmth, and good, and calm, and, light, and Lord this was seriously potent shit. After a couple seconds, Stiles was gasping, and Derek’s fingers stuttered against Stiles’ shirt before he retreated entirely.

“I think I went overboard,” Derek admitted, watching the shadowy lines fade into his skin until Stiles distracted him by arching a little into his space. Even through the goopy pleasure, Stiles was still fascinated with that vulnerable look on Derek’s face.

“Fuck, yeah, so? S’good,” Stiles sighed around a smile.

A smile which was promptly smushed by someone else’s lips.

Stiles clutched at Derek’s shoulders and held on, through the scruffy kisses and teasing bites across his neck that made his stomach clench and his skin tingle, until he was shoving his hands into Derek’s hair instead, pressed up against Derek from knee to chest. He was thanked for his efforts with a fraught little growl, and another whine again when Derek fit himself between Stiles’ legs.

“Shh,” Stiles whispered, brushing a hand down Derek’s nape before his wrists were snatched up and pinned above him. It was all slow, rolling hips after that, and gazing through half-lidded eyes as Derek’s eyes flashed red when Stiles’ hips juddered just so, or when his heel pressed into Derek’s ass, or when Stiles couldn’t help the jumble of near-silent praise from spilling out into the air between them.

“Yes,” Derek muttered against Stiles’ cheek, clearly picking up whatever Stiles was putting down, and then Stiles was too gone to care because Derek had his wrists in one hand and his dick in the other, and Stiles was coming his brains out.

He murmured through Derek’s stuttering climax, noodle-happy, wrapping Derek into a hug once his hands were free.

“This should happen even when we’re not battered and bruised, just saying,” Stiles said after a moment.

“Oh my god, go to sleep!” Isaac moaned from a bed or two away.

Derek just tucked his nose into Stiles’ neck and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [runswithwolves](http://runswithwolves.tumblr.com/post/73264305223) over on tumblr. Come say hi!


End file.
